


Like Magic

by IndigoSynopsis



Series: Beedleverse: Love Carries us Through [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Audio Content, F/M, Family, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hurt/Comfort, Not Epilogue Compliant, One Shot, Romance, Sorry Not Sorry, my singing is involved in this, suspend disbelief because i sound nothing like a British man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:22:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24474958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IndigoSynopsis/pseuds/IndigoSynopsis
Summary: Harry and Hermione find a new and slightly unexpected way to express their love.
Relationships: Hermione Granger & Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Harry Potter
Series: Beedleverse: Love Carries us Through [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1984214
Comments: 13
Kudos: 64





	Like Magic

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the Harmony discord server for inspiring me to write this fic and to be brave enough to post my voice with it.  
> A big huge extra thank you to SweetShireen, King0fThefall, and my buddy Asch for the readthroughs and edits! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy <3

_June 1999._

Tonight was a bad night for a storm. 

It had been one full month since the anniversary of _that day_ , and seventy-two hours since Harry Potter and Hermione Granger made a public appearance. A couple of owls came and went, but the two were largely alone. In the past year they had come to call these the _bad days._ Bad days could last anywhere from twenty four hours to a week, and were the reason they kept a supply of nonperishables at Number Twelve Grimmauld place. 

Number Twelve Grimmauld Place had undergone renovation in the year since the war, with Harry, Hermione, and Ron doing their best to rid the place of its grime. If Harry was honest, he had no interest in the renovation, but they couldn’t bear staying at The Burrow nor did he have the energy to search for a new flat. And so they made it as much of a home as they could. 

On bad days, they simply sat together in silence, leaning on each other for support and reading Muggle books, which replaced the pureblood literature in the library. Sometimes the bad days plagued both of them, though it was Harry who usually fell first. Hermione noticed him grow quiet and had since developed a knack for predicting when his bad days might be. 

This time, however, Hermione was the unfortunate benefactor of the bad days and had simply gone up to bed. Harry brought her dinner—which she didn’t touch— and then went to bed himself at around eight. _The sooner we sleep_ , he thought, _the more chance tomorrow will be better._ But the young wizard’s rest would be interrupted by thunder which shook the house, and then by a clatter in the room across the hall. He half rose, ready to find the source of the noise, but instead heard a soft knock. 

“Come in!” he called. Another second passed before the door slowly creaked open and Hermione’s reddened face came into view. She had evidently tried to braid her hair, but honey-brown strands were loose in every direction and her hands grasped desperately at the strings of her pajamas. 

He was up in an instant and to her side just as the tears broke forth.

“I tried...I tried!” she exclaimed, falling into him and pressing her nose to his chest. 

“I know…” 

“My hands! _”_ she cried,” I thought I could distract myself by braiding my hair but they _won’t stop shaking,_ Harry. I...I don’t think I can sleep alone tonight.” 

“I know, Hermione, I know,” Harry kept his arms wrapped tightly around her and, albeit awkwardly, steered her toward his bed. They stood next to it, Harry rocking _very_ slightly so not to make her dizzy. He stroked her hair and pressed his lips to her curls. 

“Sorry,” her voice was tiny and he could barely hear it. His response was to hug her closer, to try and dull his wince as thunder shook the house again. It was a while before he felt her relax and therefore relaxed himself. But when he did, his next move was to place her on the edge of the bed and sit behind her. He made sure his knees touched her back, so she knew he wasn’t going anywhere. 

His hands found the hairband tangled at the edge of her braid. Harry removed it, working the curls out with his hands before leaning to a brush on his bedside table. He then set to work, running the brush in broad strokes as he listened to her breathe. 

“Thunder kept you from sleeping?” He asked after a while. Hermione muttered a small ‘mm-mm,’ which Harry interpreted as a no.

“Nightmares, then.” He knew this only too well, for his _‘_ bad days’ were often sandwiched between nightmares of people he couldn’t save and monsters he hadn’t yet conquered. Hermione nodded.

“I just,” her voice cracked, “went to sleep right as I went upstairs. That’s why I didn’t eat your dinner - thank you for that, by the way. I’m sorry it went to waste.” Harry said it was nothing, that she would do the same for him. 

“...but I woke up in Malfoy Manor. Except this time I was petrified and I couldn’t see anything but I could _feel_ , Harry. I could feel the word being written all over my body. There was nothing I could do...and then I heard curses being thrown and the house was crumbling around me. It was loud- I suppose that was the thunder.” She wrapped her arms around herself and Harry took a break from braiding to give her another hug. His hand passed over the spot on her arm where _mudblood_ had been carved less than two years ago, and a white hot anger flashed through him. He wanted to punch a wall, scream into a pillow for the pain he’d involved her in - but for her sake he extinguished the rage. 

Instead he nodded, dividing Hermione’s hair into strands. 

“Does that feel okay?” He asked, “I’m not pulling too hard, am I?” 

“Harry,” Hermione said, “the only time you’ve ever hurt me was when you tried to pull a comb straight through without warning.”

“I remember that, and I am so sorry.”

“It’s quite alright.” 

“Well this is going to be the best braid I can muster. Mind you, that means it’s going to be horrible.” This made the brunette laugh, which in turn made Harry smile. He was right. The braid was awful, with one strand too thick while another too thin, but it held together and Hermione seemed grateful. 

Minutes later, Harry and Hermione were huddled under the sheets, Harry resting on a stack of linty pillows. With every breath, he could feel the weight of Hermione’s head on his chest. It was a small comfort to him, and he barely noticed the storm winding down. 

“Erm, Harry?” Hermione said. Harry wasn’t sure how much time had gone by, only that he was groggy and his answer came out as a yawn. 

“H-mine?” 

“Could you talk to me until I fall asleep?” 

“Oh! Yes, of course..” Why hadn’t he thought of that before? Harry was instantly more awake, shifting their positions so his arm wouldn’t fall asleep and he could pull her closer. She looked up at him. It broke his heart to see the dry redness below her eyes and tracks of salt down her cheeks. She didn’t deserve this - not a bit. He was suddenly overcome with all that she’d sacrificed for the Wizarding world - for him. From erasing her parent’s memories to spending weeks on the run, enduring Ron’s misplaced anger and torture at the hands of Lestrange. Still, she somehow prevailed and was still by his side. He opened his mouth to tell her just this...some version of the appreciation he had for her. 

But when he found the words, he did not say them. Instead, Harry hummed a tune. It came as a few soft notes while he placed a hand on Hermione’s cheek. She leaned into it slightly, which spurred Harry to continue his little tune. Before long it had morphed itself into words that he wouldn’t have been able to contain if he tried. And so he let them fall from his lips like the soft rain now kissing the roof. 

_My love for you’s like magic_

_it grows within my heart._

_In truth, you make me whole-_

_I hope we’ll never be apart._

_So while you drift off into sleep_

_beneath the stars that gleam,_

_my love for you (like magic)_

_surrounds you in your dreams._

It wasn’t very long, but when Harry looked down he saw Hermione’s eyes had closed and her breathing was growing slow. 

“Mm...sounds nice...sing ‘gain..” she said. Of course he obliged, but she was fast asleep before he made it to verse two. 

* * *

_July 2002._

Harry walked into the house, shrugged the black and yellow Auror robes off his shoulders, and walked right back outside again. He had seen Hermione sitting at the kitchen table, even registered her wide greeting smile, but he couldn’t bring himself to acknowledge it. He had to get outside. The space was too small. He had to go out. 

_Crack._

A moment later he was standing in the field behind The Burrow. He didn’t know who was home, nor did he care. It was a big open space and he could see everything around him and maybe if he stood there long enough his heart would stop beating so damn fast.

_Crack._

His head whipped around. What he saw in his panicked state was a blurry mass of brown and tan and the light blue of a simple dress. Still, he knew her presence anywhere. 

“Hermione,” he croaked. 

“Shh...I’m here, Harry. Just look at me.” She walked toward him slowly, brown eyes locked on green, with her hands outstretched. He grabbed at them as she got closer - missed once - then was able to hold her hands until they were level. Though Hermione was shorter, she was the stability he needed and the only person who could ground him during these moments. 

With one hand still gripping his arm, Hermione took out her wand and conjured a blanket. She cast a quick look toward The Burrow, but if someone were going to disturb them they would have come out by now, so she and Harry sat down. Harry, who was suddenly bereft of all energy, rested his head on her lap. Hermione’s hand put light pressure on his chest until his heartbeat slowed and she finally came into focus. 

“Can you tell me what happened?” Hermione asked. A strand of her hair was loose from her bun, and it tickled Harry’s nose as his partner leaned over him. 

“New Auror training exercise,” Harry said.Truth be told he didn’t want to talk about it. It made the pounding in his heart start up again. But he felt Hermione’s hand press down again and thought he should try to continue. _Keeping it in will only make it worse_ , he thought. Nevertheless it took awhile for him to answer again, and Hermione didn’t push him. Instead she looked at the surrounding grasses, eyeing the birds breaking formation above. 

“They said we needed to prepare for any situation,” Harry said finally, “including ones where we’d get captured, you know.” Hermione’s attention was on him again. 

“We took turns in a simulation of sorts, said we could be detained in any number of ways. I think Ron was bound and gagged. Anyway…”

Something screeched in the distance. 

“They put me in a box,” he continued, “It was...it was _tiny._ Dunno if tiny’s the right word, actually, because I could move. But it was dark and they locked it from the outside. It reminded me of the time before...before I turned eleven.”

“Oh Harry…” 

Hermione’s eyes brimmed, though she wiped away any tear which tried to escape. Harry knew this was her attempting to stay strong for him. But truth be told, seeing her cry for him gave him as much appreciation as it did guilt. Because there _was_ someone who would cry for him, and young him at that. 

“Hermione,” he said after she’d gathered herself, “There may be more times—like this I mean—when I become a full Auror. I can do it, Hermione, but sometimes…” 

“Harry.”

“I don’t want to be too much of a strain on you, not with your future in the Ministry and all.” 

“Harry James Potter!” She placed a hand on his cheek and made him look right at her. All tears gone, Hermione’s face was set. 

“I am not going anywhere and you can’t make me, you understand? Try, maybe, but it won’t work. In fact, I’d prefer if you didn’t keep trying to leave me every time you express your feelings.” Harry put his hands up in defeat, then nestled into his girlfriend with no intention of getting up. The sky was now shifting to the grey-blue of evening, but Harry was content to stay for a while longer. Perhaps they would go inside and visit eventually, but right now he wanted to listen to Hermione breathe. 

Only, she didn’t simply breathe. It took Harry a few moments to register what she was doing. Hermione was _singing._ The sound was mild and deeper than Harry expected, but unmistakably harmonic and he nearly teared up when he heard the words.

_My love for you’s like magic_

_it grows within my heart._

_In truth, you make me whole-_

_I hope we’ll never be apart._

“How did you remember that?” He asked when she was done. Harry had sung for Hermione before and had a habit of making up lyrics on the fly, but he hadn’t sung this one in years. 

“Well, I only remember the first verse, but honestly it’s been in my memory since that night at Grimmauld.” Harry kissed her hand.

“I didn’t know you liked it that much.”

“Of course I did! And I’d like you to teach me the rest of it if you remember.” 

Just as Harry opened his mouth to oblige, they heard a symphony of Weasleys in the distance. Harry patted Hermione’s arm and got up, then leaned down to help her to her feet. Tonight was not a night to socialize. Tonight was just for them. 

_Crack._

They apparated home. 

* * *

_December 2009._

The kitchen was a mess but Harry couldn’t be bothered to clean it up. He had tried, of course, but the combination of hosting friends and cooking had him completely exhausted. Still, the Granger-Potter residence was still radiating joy from the evening’s events. Harry looked at the clock and groaned. It was only eight-thirty. Years ago, the wizard would have, albeit begrudgingly, joined his old dorm mates for a pub crawl or a game of nighttime quidditch. Now, all he wanted to do was sleep. He wasn’t even that old! 

Harry was about to sit down on the couch with a much needed cup of tea when he heard a soft noise coming from the second floor. Harry strained his ears to listen, and soon found himself climbing the stairs as softly as he could. He passed picture frames full of his friends and family moving about, and smiling in every single one. There was even a photo of Dudley and his own family (though this one wasn’t moving). 

He made his way to the end of the hallway where a door stood partially ajar. He was already smiling, but it grew wider as he peeked around the corner to watch his wife. She was sitting in a rocking chair nestled between two wooden cribs. Each was lined with a very odd set of quilts patterned with snitches, broomsticks, and books. But Harry’s attention was drawn to the bundles in each of Hermione’s arms. On the left lay a little girl with jet black curls and her thumb in her mouth. On the right, a sandy-haired boy was reaching upward to grab at the air. Hermione rocked and sang to them, but quieted when she noticed her husband at the door.

“They’re almost asleep, but Rowan is a little fussy tonight,” she whispered. As if on cue, Rowan began to gurgle and whine. Harry leaned down and pressed his lips to Hermione’s before taking the baby in his arms. His green eyes opened a little wider to look at his father.

“Don’t stop on my account,” Harry said, “I’d like to hear it again.” 

He cradled Rowan in his arms as Hermione resumed her rocking with Chrys. Then, once she was certain that the little girl was comfortable, she started to hum. It was a sound as familiar as anything, one that Harry sang when Hermione was down and Hermione did when Harry had a particularly bad day at work. They sometimes even sang it for no particular reason. It was their anthem, their song that only they could sing in harmony. Now, as they each held a bundle in their arms, it would become the lyrics of their family. 

Hermione began to sing the words, and Harry, unable to help himself, joined in. 

_My love for you’s like magic_

_it grows within my heart._

_In truth, you make me whole-_

_I hope we’ll never be apart._

_So while you drift off into sleep_

_beneath the stars that gleam,_

_my love for you (like magic)_

_surrounds you in your dreams._

**Author's Note:**

> Aaaaand we made it! Thank you again. This work is canon in my HP Harmonverse (Nicknamed Beedleverse for reasons that will eventually become clear). Hopefully I'll get to do more soon!
> 
> [let me know if you see any more super distracting errors. Re-reading your own writing can make you blind to them]


End file.
